Flightless Bird
by satbiym
Summary: Figure Skating was not a platform for Omegas... And yet... "How about we dance for it?" Victor looked up wide-eyed, startled, as a small smile twitched at Yuuri's lips. Or what really happened the night of the GPF. Alpha!Yuuri and Omega!Victor.
1. Chapter 1

Victor was tired. His knees ached, his feet were bloody and sore and his face hurt with all the smiles he had thrown out whenever someone brought up retirement. The knot in his neck grew tighter and tighter the more he thought about the day. Since when did a gold medal bring up questions of retirement? Since the gold medalist dared to turn 27, he supposed.

So he sat in his hotel room and - away from the screaming questions and the sly smiles looking for the barest hint of exhaustion - hunched, breaking his picture perfect posture born out of years of dancing, skating and Yakov's stern instructions. And he took a deep breath. He was carrying a 20 year old knot in his shoulder and he just wanted-

It didn't matter what he wanted, he reminded himself. He knew what he would be giving up when he clutched the Letter 6 years ago, and had decided to go on skating despite his….situation.

But Victor had been fighting defects he had been born with for all his life, first when his body decided to betray him, lost its shapeless form and grew broad and muscled, later when his knee refused to heal from a landing gone wrong, and then when his damn biology had declared him to be an Omega against all odds.

 _One in 1000,_ he remembered thinking, shocked. You could always count on Victor to surprise you, the commentators used to say, voices tinged with awe and admiration (and isn't it frustrating when unpredictability become predictable?) when Victor first started out in the Senior Division. But what will those same commentators, with their booming voices and Beta mannerisms say if they knew the biggest surprise of all? That the crème de la crème of figure skating was an _Omega?_

Figure skating, a sport that had started out as a way for aristocratic Alphas to distinguish themselves, as the ultimate mating dance…..was now being ruled by an Omega?

Victor chuckled, and to think the only surprise he had left in his repertoire, he couldn't use. Cruel fate.

The gold coloured chains in his costume jingled metallically, as he rocked back and forth. Silver hair softly tickling his cheek, and Victor thought back to how his long hair used to completely hide his face when he needed a second to reassess or readjust, from reporters or zealous fans.

He missed his long hair, he mused.

The hand in his hair tightened, strands pulled tight, peeking from within his fingers. He was tired of giving, and giving, and giving. For the first time in his life, he wanted something for himself. Something to remember this gold by. Let it be a celebration, instead of a reminder of another year passed.

He wanted to, for the first time in his life, not have to think and worry about every decision he made. He wanted to let go.

He wanted to live.

Decision made, Victor let go of his hair, and barrel rolled over to where his phone was charging. He had a night to save.

* * *

The Alpha Victor had been promised was none other than Yuuri Katsuki.

Victor stared in horror as the Alpha in question sat with his legs splayed, eyes (thankfully) covered by a blindfold, as Victor had demanded in his requests at the confidentiality-bound Mating Club, _Heat,_ that catered to celebrities in Sochi.

Yuuri Katsuki's face inched upwards, nose perched in air, and he breathed in, and Victor knew what he would smell. Victor's Omega pheromones, that he'd revealed by washing away the scent-nulling shampoo two minutes ago, would had given him away if the swish of the door hadn't already. His hair still coolly damp from the shower, and the newly earthed scent, in the company of an Alpha made his scent stronger than ever.

But Yuuri Katsuki made no move to move, he sat in his hard-backed chair and waited patiently.

The move was Victor's, the posture seemed to say.

Victor had a decision to make. Should he risk exposing his oldest secret to his competition? The very boy - no, man - who had walked away from him the very same night, when Victor had offered a commemorative photo? That was the first time Victor had really paid attention to Yuuri Katsuki, _Japan's Ace,_ commentators had bellowed a couple of hours ago, _Omega,_ his competition had cautiously whispered after theatrically looking left-and-right.

Who was this boy? Why did everyone think he was an Omega? Why did he let them think so? Victor felt a tendril of irrational anger at the thought. _Who gave him the right?_

Well, Victor leaned straighter, Victor hadn't reached where he was by playing it safe.

Victor's eye followed the lithe lines of Yuuri's body, the lean chest and subtly muscled arms that sultrily whispered of hidden strength, the relaxed arrangement of his legs, and followed them to the tip of Yuuri's feet which must be aching and bleeding like Victor's. And then he saw it, the sky blue cushion between his feet.

Heart suddenly beating faster than it had been, Victor swallowed, and moved forward tentatively, only to be stopped by Yuuri's head tilting sideways minutely at the sound of Victor's rustling clothes.

Victor inwardly hit himself, he knew what Yuuri wanted. And he wanted to be a good Omega. But, he steeled himself, he couldn't. He might still want to give into the urge to run out of the room.

So, he pursed his lips and took a louder-than-necessary step brushing his hands in his clothes, making the red silk shirt crinkle noticeably. Yuuri pursed his lips, but remained silent, head still cocked like Makkachin, without the quizzical air.

Victor, before he could think himself out of it, threw himself gracefully into the cushion. Knees landing with a thump dulled by the cushion. Heart in his throat he clenched his fists and waited to see what Yuuri would do.

* * *

Victor could feel the heat of Yuuri's thigh, so close to his cheek. Face in the middle of parted legs, as he stared defiantly up to Yuuri's placid face.

A beat. Two.

The muscles around Yuuri's mouth tensed, like he was about to speak, and Victor prepared himself, sure he was about to get punished for not taking off his clothes when he had the chance, for it was only polite to do so before his first scene with an Alpha.

"May I?" A quiet, accented voice spoke. Gentle but firm.

Victor twitched back, as he saw in his haste to focus on Yuuri's face, he had missed the hand that had risen up from Yuuri's thigh and was extended towards his face, fingers not as long as Victor's himself, but still intimidatingly large up close.

Victor stayed silent, not trusting himself to speak.

The Alpha nodded decisively, and the hand retreated, settling back on the thigh, the heat tickling Victor's cheek because of the teasing proximity.

"My name is Yuuri, what may I call you?" Yuuri said, voice managing to not disturb the tranquil heat of the moment.

Victor clenched his fist and stayed silent. After a moment, Yuuri nodded like he'd received the answer he had wanted. They sat (kneeled, in Victor's case) in silence for a shrill silence.

"How about we dance for it?"

Victor looked up wide-eyed, startled as a small smile twitched at Yuuri's lips.

"I win and you tell me what exactly you would like from me, and if you win….well, what would you like from me?"

Victor blinked. _What did he want from this dangerous stranger?_ A journey into subspace? Sex?

No.

"You tell me everything about yourself, if I win. That's what I want" Victor said, deepening his voice.

Yuuri reeled back, showing surprise for the first time in this ridiculous encounter. Victor smiled. Seemed he hadn't lost the element of surprise after all.

Yuuri smiled, slow and dangerous.

"Deal."

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki moved like his body was creating music.

This wasn't what he had seen in during the Grand Prix Final.

Yuuri laughed unconsciously as the music swelled, almost like the laugh had been wrenched from him. He threw his head back, eyes still blindfolded, and twisted his body, drawing Victor's body with him like a lover.

Victor was bewitched.

A thin layer of sweat coated both their bodies, as Yuuri's hands confidently guided Victor in the dance. Moving from one pose to another, Victor lost himself in the dance. He jumped, he twisted, he bent back on Yuuri's cues; it was like he was back on the ice. He remembered this feeling, skating, with his long hair loose twirling like ribbons behind him. When the only person he had to impress was himself.

Victor's breath hitched, as Yuuri tenderly wrapped a gentle hand behind his head, the other hand slowly creeping down his left thigh, slowly raising it. And Victor followed, eyes not moving from where Yuuri's would be, curling his back, as his leg rose up.

For a beat they stayed in that position, as Yuuri laughed, softer now, and Victor could well imagine those eyes he had last seen so devastated across the room, lighting up with joy, and Victor - for one second - wanted to throw caution to the wind and run a finger from Yuuri's forehead to the tip of his nose, drawing the blindfold with it, revealing all.

The music swelled as they stood, and for the first time in a long time Victor realized that he was having fun. Victor Nikiforov, had fun all the time - on ice, with his teammates, even with Yuri, but this was the first time Victor, the man, was having fun….with someone who wasn't Makkachin.

Victor let himself be tugged smoothly upwards and closed his eyes. Yuuri's Alpha scent and his own, stronger because of the sweating, mixing smoothly in the air, making a warm flush crawl up Victor's face.

He had a feeling he had started something he wasn't sure he could finish.

* * *

"Well, Sweetheart, I am not sure who won that match." Yuuri said, face, close to Victor's, red with exertion. Victor looked up sharply at the endearment, and raised his eyebrow.

Yuuri reddened more, "What, I don't know you name, do I? And I have to call you something!"

"Vitya. You can call me that." Victor surprised himself by saying, only for Yuuri to jerk back, out of Victor's arms, face losing all its color.

"W-What?"

Victor, confused, repeated himself, "You can call me Vitya."

Yuuri licked his lips, seemingly nervous, and tucked his hands into his pockets. With his white shirt, wrinkled beyond repair, (ugly) blue tie loosened, and hair falling into his eyes, he looked nothing like someone who could lead Victor around a room, and yet…

Appearances, it seemed could be deceiving.

"Alright." Yuuri nodded rapidly. "V-Vitya, it is."

Victor looked with narrowed eyes as Yuuri's voice became hoarse at the end of the sentence.

Yuuri shook himself out of whatever it was eating at him, and smiled broadly, distractingly, like a shiny toy at the corner of your eye. Victor blinked at the transformation.

 _Seems like we're both playing at being someone we're not…..or is it that we're finally free to be someone we always were?_

Victor, refusing to examine that thought in further detail, decided to let himself be distracted, and smiled, "Let's say we both did."

Yuuri turned to face Victor more fully, if the blindfold wasn't there, Victor could bet those big doe-eyes of his would be zoning into his. And he smiled a slow smile, "Alright then, say we did. Then do I get my end of the deal?"

Damn, he'd walked right into the trap. Well, quasi-trap.

So, Victor did what he always did whenever he felt out of step.

He smiled, thickened his accent, leaned in, closer to Yuuri and said "Well Alpha, you only ever had to ask. Would you like me to tell you all the things I want you to do to me? In detail?"

Yuuri's cheeks darkened. Damn, he blushed easily didn't he? Victor offhandedly thought of how low it went, but the thought felt forced. Victor clenched his fist, of course Yuuri wanted to have sex, why else would he be here? In a _Mating_ Club? It went to reason that some actual mating was required.

Well, then. He would do what Victor Nikiforov did best, and Perform.

Yuuri stepped backwards, hands coming up in the universal symbol for back-away, palms help parallelly to his chest, shaking his head.

"N-No. I just. Want…."

Victor's eyes sharpened, sensing weakness, and he stepped forward so that even Yuuri could hear it, and felt vindicated seeing the tiny flinch in Yuuri's countenance.

Omega, though he may be, Victor Nikiforov backed down from no one. Not the Alphas of the world, not the press who wanted him to retire in obscurity, nor the other skaters in the cut-throat world of figure skating. He stared in derision at Yuuri. If he was in Yuuri's place he would have pushed and pushed until the other person fell down in defeat.

Though, he thought with a pang, this isn't a battlefield. This was the age-old meeting between an Alpha and Omega.

Yuuri straightened, lifting his head high and in a firm voice quivering with a certain something Victor couldn't identify, recited "My name is Yuuri Katsuki. I'm a figure skater."

He wanted Victor to trust him, that much was obvious. And he wasn't afraid of giving away his much-protected secret to do it. But why did the comfort of some random, anxious Omega matter so much?

Yuuri continued, not moving from his spot in the room, yet it seemed like the words were being ripped from his hands, "I am from Japan, my family owns a hot spring resort," and he smiled slightly as he said this, unwittingly.

Victor's eyes widened, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable, like he was taking something that wasn't his, and stepped forward, and stuttered, "Wait. I-"

But Yuuri went on like he didn't hear Victor, and continued, "I promised my coach I will go to the banquet, but I came here instead. I want - needed…. Something. And then you came in, and suddenly I felt like I could find it….Whatever it was that could make this horrible feeling in my chest go away. And I think I could help you too. But you have to trust me to do that, and I know that's not easy to do, especially not with someone you just met. But we could try?" he ended hesistantingly.

Victor was stunned silent, which was a rare occasion as Yakov would growl.

Unlike what Victor previously thought, Yuuri wasn't backing down. He was giving Victor space, and wasn't too proud to twist his own arm to make sure Victor had space to breathe.

Victor blinked at the sudden thought.

It wasn't a competition to him. He was just trying to make Victor comfortable.

People like Yuuri weren't afraid of ripping open their skin and revealing their guts to the world. Unlike Victor who hid his flaws with his pretty word and, a flash of a smile and a wink. But Victor wasn't sure he could bare himself like that, not even for one night. But…..who would know that this needy Omega was none other than Victor Nikiforov? Not Yuuri certainly.

Victor drew his hand away from where it was cupping his chin, and made a decision.

"Okay. I will try. With you."

The smile on Yuuri's face could've powered a few hundred towns in Russia. Despite himself, Victor felt an answering twitch in his lips.

Then, finally, Yuuri came over, and despite his height, managed to tower over Victor, and laid his palm on Victor's face. Examining that smile up close was like staring into the sun without protective eye-wear. A faint realization that this wasn't a good idea, and the thrill of doing the forbidden.

Victor smiled slowly, he was going to be just fine.

* * *

"Comfortable, Sweetheart?"

Victor hummed, too lost in the sensation of having his hands and feet bound as he knelt on the blue cushion, the heat from Yuuri's thighs enveloping him, bringing a warm flush to his face.

Suddenly, Victor hissed as the hands that was previously carding through his hair tightened and pulled, "Words, please, Sweetheart."

"Yes, Alpha." Victor said, ducking his head.

Yuuri hummed back, and his hands tilted Victor's head onto his thigh, and smiled.

"I'm glad."

* * *

"Alpha?" Victor asked, half-upset at shattering the warm calm that had descending upon them. Victor's head felt fuzzy with the warmth.

Yuuri hummed questioningly.

Victor paused, unsure he wanted to open the can of worms, and asked, "Why do you not call me by my name?"

Yuuri stiffened. He would never be an actor, charming as he was, Victor mused, his every thought was transcribed on his face. But it was…..soothing, to be with someone who wanted exactly what he said.

Before he could examine that train of thought too deeply, Yuuri said, "Your name reminds me of someone, that's all. And while we're here I don't want to think of anyone but you."

Victor, against his permission, blushed. He wondered if he should push further…..but what if the person he reminded Yuuri of was….himself? No. Best not to push it.

So, he did the next best thing and nuzzled into Yuuri's hand, settled for the first time in a long time.

* * *

"Would you like me to take care of that for you?" Yuuri asked randomly.

Victor looked up, alarmed.

"Your knee, I mean, you keep grimacing. Is it giving you trouble?" Yuuri clarified to Victor silent horror. But then Victor internally shook himself, there is no way Yuuri would conclude that the knee pain was because of a 10 year old injury.

"Take care, how?" Victor asked, finding it hard to word his sentences properly.

Yuuri smiled softly, "Well, I could massage your legs for you. I've...heard it helps."

Victor started, not expecting this turn of conversation. It seemed Yuuri kept surprising him at every opportunity.

"What do you say? There is some oil in the drawer there. Let me help ease your pain, Sweetheart."

Victor could only nod.

* * *

"My dog's name was Victor, he died today."

Victor shivered as the whisper permeated the air, like an open wound, the voice whispering the words, like a secret into Victor's ears, the vibration thrumming down his body. They were curled up on the sinfully large bed, with Victor tucked protectively inside of Yuuri. Legs entangled and Yuuri's hands clutching his own, Victor felt cocooned, like nothing could touch him.

Victor felt his eyes well up, as he realized what that raw thing he had been smelling on Yuuri the whole time was. A broken family bond. No wonder he had flopped on his program. If Makkachin had…

Victor tightened his fingers in Yuuri hands.

He felt chapped lips press on the side of his throat, sending a bolt of electricity into his stomach.

And he closed his eyes and dreamt.


	2. Chapter 2

At Worlds Victor medals (again), and smiles broadly (insincerely) despite the weighted gazes on his back and whispers of retirement.

That night Victor piled three encyclopedias on his chest and waited for the weight to bring him down.

He Did Not Think About Yuuri Katsuki.

He Did Not Think About The Note in His Locked Bedside Drawer.

He Did Not Think.

Makkachin whines softly.

Victor breathed.

* * *

The next day, by the time Victor woke up there was a video being tweeted to him by what seemed like the whole world. Cuddling Makkachin close to himself, and surrounded by pillows, he watched it.

* * *

"Are you out of your mind, Vitya? Coaching! You?! It's impossible!" Yakov yelled.

Victor looked at him, and smiled sharply, "Afraid an Omega will be better at your job, Yakov?"

Yakov reared back as if struck, "You know - I - Victor, you know I never thought of you like that."

Victor looked at him silently, and after a moment nodded, "Call me if you're ever in Japan, Yakov."

Yakov looked on in surprise as Victor walked away, Makkachin's leash in hand (and that's really what cinched it for Yakov), towards the airport, and yelled, "Don't throw away your career for a boy, Victor!"

 _For a boy, no._ Victor smiled.

* * *

Makkachin barked with what Victor hoped was happiness, as he leapt into the snow while Victor spoke to the owner of the ( _Yuuri's family's)_ onsen.

The man he was talking to, laughed as Victor threw out the few phrases he had looked up in a panic at the cab ride to the onsen, and said in stilted English, "We have room for you. Leave dog here, I'll bring him in when he stops playing. Go to onsen."

Victor brightened, and offhandedly said, "Her. Her name is Makkachin."

The man kindly nodded, "Makkachin. I'll bring Makkachin inside. You look tired, go to onsen and I'll get room ready."

Victor smiled and complied. He could do with a hot soak.

* * *

It was ironic that while Victor had managed to keep his clothes on for a night with Yuuri, his first non-blindfolded meeting with Yuuri was while he was naked.

Typical.

* * *

Yuuri blushed a deep red, as he ducked his head to the side while Victor climbed out of the onsen.

It's surprisingly adorable.

He appeared rounder since Victor had last seen him ( _pressing his face to the back of Victor's neck, hands clutching his, warm, powerful thighs on top of his own_ ), softer, wearier. His hands were held tightly open at his sides. His frame taut in every line.

Victor studied Yuuri as he tied the green robe the owner of the onsen ( _Yuuri's father, he now realized)_ had given him. He seemed different from the all-commanding Alpha that had the ability to hold Victor down by presence alone. And, Victor realized as he leaned in closer, he smelled of nothing. Like a Beta.

Victor blinked.

Well that certainly changed things.

Victor feigned a yawn, he had some thinking to do, "Yuuri, we'll talk later. I'm sleepy right now."

Yuuri, if it was possible, looked even more panicked. Like the prospect of Victor sleeping for the next year had never crossed his mind. Victor giggled in his head. The heat from the onsen must be really getting to him.

Yuuri's panic was broken by his father entering the conversation, Victor looked on in interest as they conversed. Yuuri's eyes becoming wider and wider as the conversation went on, until they looked like mortified dinner-plates.

Mr. Katsuki nodded genially at Victor and said, "Your dog in reception" and left.

Victor smiled as the silence grew longer, content to stare at Yuuri (like he had so long ago) until Yuuri finally said, "Your room...isn't ready, yet. Would you - I mean - is it okay if you slept somewhere...else?" he ended lamely, practically twiddling his thumbs.

Victor smiled and said, "Sure, a room's a room!"

Yuuri if possible, looked even sketchier, as he drew out, "Well….it's less room and more….restaurent?"

Victor had a sudden flashback of a reporter asking, "So, what are your plans for the next year?"

He realized to his surprise that he couldn't wait to find out.

* * *

Dinner was interesting. With a quietly lethal Mari, confused Yuuri and ten or so restaurant patrons, all staring at him with various degrees of subtlety.

So, Victor did what Victor does. He smiled and schmoozed and charmed. The food was good, the company ( _Yuuri)_ pleasant, albeit befuddled.

Makkachin, if his yips of happiness were any indication as he ate his meal, agreed.

Victor, in the warm glow of the restaurant and the muffled whispers in Japanese, relaxed.

* * *

Victor started as a loud noise woke him up from his pleasant slumber, Makkachin cuddled close to him.

A woman's voice filled the air, repeatedly saying Yuuri's and Victor's name within spurts of rapid Japanese. Victor could guess what they could be talking about, if the word "coach" thrown around was any indication. Victor feigned sleep, as he mentally calculated his next steps. From what he had seen when he had observed (stalked) Yuuri's previous performances, Yuuri killed it in his step sequences but flubbed his jumps. But first things first, he had to observe how Yuuri was away from the influence of a blindfold and the security of being The Alpha.

But that doesn't mean he couldn't have some fun before that.

Victor sneezed lightly, and sat up, reveling in the panic that caused.

Yuuri said something in Japanese behind him, presumably to the woman beside him.

"Hungry," Victor mumbled and looked at Yuuri from under his eyelashes, subtly shifting so that the robe on his shoulders fell, exposing his left shoulder and neck to Yuuri. Victor shivered at the swoop that he could feel down his stomach because of the gesture, meaningless except for being used by Omegas, towards their Alphas, when in heat. But no one had ever accused Victor of having any shame.

And didn't _that_ send Yuuri into another panic. Victor giggled internally. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of that this year.

* * *

Victor huffed in frustration. So far, Alpha Yuuri had made no indication of coming out to play. Yuuri had gone as far as to _run away_ whenever Victor made a move. It couldn't be that Yuuri didn't want Victor, no, that wasn't it. It could be that Yuuri because thought he was an Alpha...and Alpha-Alpha relationships while not exactly taboo, weren't exactly accepted everywhere. There was an obvious solution to this, but telling Yuuri his age old secret was out of the question, he had to figure out a way to be both Victor Nikiforov, Alpha and Yuuri's…. _Yuuri's_.

Well, he was just going to have to try harder.


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe asking Yuuri to sleep together was too soon.

But that realization didn't stop the flare of hurt that blew down his chest.

* * *

Victor smiled slightly as Yuuri huffed and puffed his way through the run.

Eh, that seemed punishment enough.

* * *

Victor's smile dimmed as he looked at his phone, as Yuuri ran up the flight of steps for his daily practice. "Victor is too selfish to be a coach!" Yakov had screamed to the awaiting press. Yakov, who had seen the floppy-haired kid showing off for his parents and thought "Ah," Yakov who had screamed at his dates for making him late to practice, Yakov, who had put a hand on his shoulder when Victor had showed him the Orientation Letter, Yakov who was more parent than coach…..had called him selfish and unfit to care about anyone but himself.

And the worst part was, Victor couldn't disagree.

Yuuri wheezed loudly, drawing Victor's eyes towards him; And wasn't this the height of selfishness? As much as he believed that Yuuri was meant for the podium, decked in gold, he wasn't here for Yuuri, but for himself.

He was here to make Yuuri his.

And if he had to tank his rising skating career, and with it everyone who ever gave a shit about him….So be it.

Impulsivity had never felt so good.

As he looked at the man who was doing his best impression of a floppy, fish out of water, he felt the first inklings of anticipation.

* * *

In hindsight maybe asking Yuuri about past _Sweethearts (_ and even in his own head, his mind rebelled at assigning that term to anyone but himself with regards to Yuuri) wasn't the best idea. But he knew there must have been someone. There was no way Yuuri had gotten so good without practice. If not another Omega, then an Alpha or Beta.

So, he needled and prodded, about Yuuko, the pretty Omega that was his childhood friend, and about Minako, his Alpha Ballet instructor who might've instructed him in something else as well.

No, he wasn't jealous. He was doing recon. It's a Victor thing, and a Russian thing. Unearthing the history on your competition.

But Victor's instincts had never been wrong, Yuuri had a Mentor - an Alpha who had taken him under their wing and taught him everything they knew. And if the proud way Minako eyed Yuuri was any indication, she was that person.

Furthermore, if Victor had any say in it, he knew exactly who Yuuri's next Sweetheart would be.

Victor knew that it was a long shot asking him about ex-lovers, what are the chances he would tell Victor Nikiforov of the time he _didn't_ have sex with the recalcitrant Omega that one night in Sochi? Not exactly bragging material to the everyday Alpha.

But, he mused, enough of molly-coddling him, Yuuri needed someone to light a fire under his behind.

And he knew just the person to do it.

He posted the picture.

* * *

Victor brought snow with him to Hasetsu, Yuri Plisetski brought the world.

And their bubble burst.

* * *

Maybe it was petty, Victor lightly mused, to make Yuuri skate the very routine Victor had made with him in mind. A routine about a playboy coming in and ruining the beautiful Omega for everyone else…..Of course he could give Yuuri the other, more _personal_ routine he had created. But for all of Victor's charms and awards, courage wasn't one of his skills. Agape would remain his dirty secret.

Of course, Victor was interested in seeing how _this_ Yuuri would skate Eros. Would his inner Alpha come out to play, like it had that night? Or would he let Yurio sweep him back to Russia?

While usually two men fighting over Victor would have filled him with amusement, this competition was ruined by his partiality for one of the men, and the jail-bail-ness of the other.

Urgh, infatuations were awful. They ruined everything.

* * *

Victor felt a flare of unconscious hope when he asked Yuuri what he wanted from him if Yuuri won Hot Springs on Ice, but even he knew Yuuri could have any idea what he was really asking about, and he expected the usual and safe rebuttal to Yurio's speech. But Yuuri managed to surprise Victor yet again.

Victor wanted to eat Katsudon with Yuuri for the rest of his life.

* * *

"What is Agape to you, Victor?" Yurio screamed in frustration at him.

Victor smiled and made his excuses.

* * *

Okay, so maybe the the temple hadn't been the best idea.

But if the way Yuuri was carefully watching Yurio (And Victor would forever tease Yuri about that name) after the waterfall was any indication, the waterfall was. Guess those movies had been of some use after all.

* * *

So maybe drinking all night in response to your not-really-boyfriend declaring a bowl of Katsudon more arousing than you…..hadn't been the healthiest of life choices.

But he had been holding off since Yuuri's proud declaration to use fucking _Katsudon_ as his inspiration for Eros. When Victor was literally right in front of him! And while he was wearing that green robe too! It was just too much to handle.

And after he and Katsudon had been on the precipice of such a good relationship too.

 _Fucking Katsudon._

* * *

Victor smiled and silently left the room where Yuuri and Yurio were practicing their ballet poses.

He huffed in amusement as Yurio's voice was heard outside the skating rink screaming at Yuuri, _why can't you get something as simple as a Quad Salchow, piggie?,_ and as loudly as possible entered the rink, feigning ignorance at the exaggerated pictures of innocence in front of him.

Fine, let them have their secrets. Victor had enough of his own.

* * *

Victor observed Yurio screaming at Yuuri about Yuuri's inability to skate, who was looking back with a slight smile on his face. The kind of smile a mountain might give a gust of wind. No wind however strong could unearth a mountain.

 _There you are._

* * *

Yuri's face contorted into what to some observers could've called a smile when he saw Yuuko, which he quickly schooled into his usual scowl.

Victor held a whole conversation in the morning with Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki in his newly acquired Japanese.

Yuuri landed a Quad Salchow in his secret skating sessions with Yurio.

Time moved on.

* * *

"I'm bored. Is there nothing to do in this godforsaken place?" Yurio growled, one night as they all lounged around Victor's room, spent from a full day of practice.

"Well…." Yuuri said.

And that's how Victor Nikiforov experienced his first beach bonfire.

* * *

"Whatever, what does that hag know anyway." Yurio muttered as Minako walked away.

Suddenly Yuuri's head whipped up, eyes flashing. Victor, who had been indolently leaning against the wall perked up at the sight.

Yuuri's hand reached up and tightened at the back of Yurio's neck, and _squeezed._

Yurio squawked, and frantically batted at Yuuri's hand to no avail. Yuuri's grip remained on his back until Yurio stopped trying to get away, until he stood, limp as if held up by the hand on his neck alone.

"That's not how we talk to Minako-sensei. Apologize, Yuri." Yuuri said in a voice that was like thunder. Unyielding. Resolute. Unquestionable.

"Fine, fine, pig! I'm sorry. Now let go." Yuri weakly blustered, like a kitten swatting at hands taking her out of the rain.

Yuuri held on for a moment more, and nodding, released Yurio as if the whole event had never happened.

Victor blinked. The whole incident had taken less than a minute, and if not for the slight smirk on Minako's lips, he would have thought he had imagined the whole thing.

But from the way Yurio moved, exposing his back to Yuuri, unconsciously, said otherwise.

Well then.

* * *

Since when did "I'm a super tasty bowl of Katsudon, so please watch me," become a _thing_ for Victor? Maybe when it was delivered in Yuuri's uniquely, deceptively, soft voice laced with threads of firmness.

And what a bowl of Katsudon it was.

Victor smiled as Yuuri unconsciously rolled his head, baring his neck to the world, to Victor.

Not everyone could play the playboy in real life and a beautiful Omega on the rink. But Yuuri wasn't everyone. Victor didn't think even he - especially him - could have made a better Omega than Yuuri at that moment.

He could feel Yurio's gaze, heavy, on his face.

He could feel it when Yurio realized the truth.

He could feel him walk away halfway through the performance.

Victor let him.

* * *

Victor had no idea what Yuuri was saying, but the crowd seemed to like it, if the applause was any indication.

All he knew was, in that moment with his arm around Yuuri, lending him his support, he was right where he wanted to be.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Yurio left, it was May.

And so did Yuuri's drive, or so it seemed to Victor as he waited for Yuuri in the rink.

The doors of the ice rink flew open as Yuuri rushed in, all the while screaming apologies. Victor suppressed the bolt of anger, it was useless being angry; Victor Nikiforov was not going to be a victim of his feelings, He was in charge. Him. Not the Omega part of his treacherous body.

So, Victor smiled and made a quip about Aeroflot.

* * *

Victor drew his index finger across his lip in contemplation as he observed Yuuri skating across the ice.

This wouldn't do. Not if he was going to win the gold, and he was going to win the gold.

Yuuri's body didn't so much as cut the air, but made it give way, like the parting of the seas, whenever he moved. Even Victor couldn't do that, make the space complement him rather than resent his presence. But Yuuri could. He wasn't just skating to the music, he was creating it with every sweep of his arm and look from his eyes.

And if the way he couldn't move his eyes from Yuuri was an indication, Victor could see how Yuuri had gotten so far without perfecting his jumps.

Guess Yuuri's presentation skills would have to make up for only having one quad.

And Yuuri would have to listen to him, he was, after all His Coach.

* * *

So maybe using Yuuri's obvious fan-worship for him, to convince him wasn't exactly the moral thing to do. But Victor was determined to win, and if he was able to do that while stretching Yuuri's leg to his shoulder, so be it.

* * *

"Uh, sorry" Yuuri mumbled on the phone to his former coach, Celestino Cialdini. Victor looked away from his locker, this wasn't going well and he had to bring the conversation back on track, otherwise Yuuri would spend the whole day apologizing for imagined wrongs.

He swept up to Yuuri, and took the phone from him, putting it on speaker, and said, "Ciao Ciao Celestino. I'm his coach, Victor!"

So maybe his emphasis on the "I" wasn't missed if the scornful way Celestino replied to him was an indication. But, Victor had been playing this game for a long time, and Celestino was the one who had given up on Yuuri, by not pushing him out of his comfort zone, and Victor wasn't about to repeat his mistakes.

Yuuri wasn't going to walk away from _him._

"Yuri only brought me a piece once, I believe it was composed by an acquaintance. It wasn't bad but…." Celestino trailed off.

Victor was hurt when Celestino said Yuuri had brought him music once. Yuuri hadn't mentioned this to him. Didn't he realize _Victor_ was his coach now? Didn't Yuuri take him seriously enough? Was it the fan-worship or was it…..

No. There was no way Yuuri even suspected.

It had to be that Yuuri wasn't comfortable with him, which hurt in a different way.

* * *

Victor's phone pinged, he looked over from where he was cuddling Makkachin after a lukewarm day at practice, in which Yuuri leapt everytime Victor came anywhere close to him, and had finally ended the whole disappointing day by running away at the end of practice to predictably Minako's studio.

(And Victor was _not_ ready to examine his feelings about that. Not yet anyway.)

He picked up his phone, only to be greeted by Christophe Giacometti in a red speedo winking at him. He smiled, and picked up the phone.

"Victor!" Chris yelled along with the background noise of what sounded like a busy club.

"Chris." Victor returned more sedately, yet even Victor could hear the smile in his voice. But he couldn't help it, hearing the Alpha's voice was like a balm for his current feelings. Apart from Yurio, Chris was the one person Victor could call a friend. After Chris had gotten over his fan-worship (And why did all of Victor's relationship start with them being avid fans? But then if he made that the exclusionary factor, he wouldn't be able to be friends with anyone in the skating world) they had bonded together, at first, as beautiful people in close proximity are wont to do, and later as aging skating legends who everyone was hoping would slink off to retirement quietly. Victor enjoyed biting his thumb at the world with Chris every year.

"How are you, Vitya? Retirement treating you well, Old Man?"

Victor's smile twitched as he suddenly remembered that he had given up on their unspoken promise to one another first. Chris would be biting his thumb alone this year.

"I'm well, Chris. How're you?"

Chris made a "tchya" sound with his teeth and said, "So formal now you're on the other side, huh, Victor? So, what's the deal?"

Feigning ignorance, Victor said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Chris."

"Always knew you liked me begging, Victor. Okay, I'll bite. Is the sex that good that you're willing to leave everything behind?" Chris huffed, sounding raw towards the end.

Victor softened at that, and said, "It's not like that, Chris."

Chris scoffed, "Yeah right. He's a cute one, your Yuuri. But he isn't anything spectacular, darling. What is going on, Victor?"

Victor felt a rush of conflicting emotions, possessiveness at the possessive epithet, anger at Chris for abusing Yuuri ( _his_ Yuuri was plenty spectacular), fondness for his old friend and sympathy for the betrayal he must be feeling.

Chris continued, heedless of the emotions his words invoked - or maybe counting on it - and said, "I've never seen you so much as glance at someone before, and now you're flying across the world for some kid you've never even met! Is Victor Nikiforov going to be wasted on some Omega who doesn't even know how to jump proper-"

"Chris." Victor said, quietly, precisely, devoid of his usual cheer.

Chris stopped.

Victor said nothing, leaving the silence to speak for himself. Until, Chris finally said, "I'm just repeating what everyone is saying, Vitya. That some Omega turned your head around. Is that it, are you in trouble?"

Victor pursed his lips, unwilling to show his deep rage to even Makkachin, and stilled. He slowly cocked his head, and drew up and enunciated slowly, "I'm not the one between us who gets in trouble, Chris."

The empty beat thundered like a drum.

Victor continued, "And furthermore, Yuuri is beautiful and extraordinary and brilliant. He has the capacity to leave everyone in his dust. I'm just getting out of his way while I have time, and choosing the right side."

A beat.

"It's like that, is it." Chris returned weakly.

"It's like that." Victor said firmly.

"Well then I better get on the right side then." Chris said, and Victor can hear the smile in his voice.

Victor smiled, and bowed his head in relief.

* * *

Victor could see Yuuri hesitatingly approaching with his phone. Victor did his best to appear unthreatening. He had practice doing it for small children who approached him for autographs and pictures.

"V-Victor." Yuuri said, his accent, thicker than usual, turning it into "B-Bictor."

Victor raised his eyebrows slightly, and smiled.

Yuuri just closed his eyes and shoved his phone at Victor. Victor, keeping his movements slow so as to not spook Yuuri, took it carefully.

And he listened.

Disappointed.

The music was weak, trailing off in places it shouldn't. Was this how Yuuri saw himself? Victor felt a flare of anger, _Is this how he thinks the world sees him?_ Victor smiled to suppress his anger - anger, that he realized to his surprise, wasn't because of Yuuri, but on Yuuri's _behalf._ That had never happened before. Victor blinked, never before had he been so agitated on the behalf of someone else, _because_ of someone else, yes, but never like this.

Victor smiled to snap out of this realization, and noticing that Yuuri was practically chewing his fingernails in panic, said "Maybe you should think of other possibilities"

He handed the phone to Yuuri distractedly, and was quiet the whole evening. He had some thinking to do.

* * *

Victor had flown to Japan because he had known since that night that Yuuri and he had something special. The kind of thing people spend their whole careers trying to capture on ice.

But he had never expected Yuuri to worm his way inside Victor so completely. He thought he could fall in love with Yuuri safely, with all his shields attached. While holding Yuuri at a distance. He had never expected Yuuri to snake his way in, spread himself over Victor and latch on.

Victor breathed in, panic suffusing through his body. No, he couldn't let Yuuri do this to him. It was just the novelty of it all. All he had to do was expose himself to Yuuri, get used to him, and this feeling would go away. That's what science said. It was just the blush of new love.

Yes. That's what he would do.

So Victor tried to push himself onto Yuuri further and further, and asked Yuuri if he wanted to sleep together, asked Yuuri if he wanted to watch a movie together, asked Yuuri if he wanted to go to the onsen together, asked until _Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri_ was all that he could hear. Well that and the sound of Yuuri walking away.

Then one day Yuuri didn't show up to practice.

* * *

Victor found him quivering under his blankets, in his bed, screaming something in Japanese. The obvious panic in his voice calmed the rough seas in his chest somewhat, to the extent where he was able to smile brightly and say, "Let's go to the ocean."

Yuuri agreed.

* * *

The sand under his feet, and Makkachin's fur under his fingers grounded him enough so he could do what he had been expecting Yuuri to do from the beginning, without offering him anything in return. Victor had been expecting Yuuri to bare all, solely on the virtue of Victor being Victor Nikiforov, and the fact that Victor had given up everything to help Yuuri bring home the gold.

But he could see now that Yuuri too had sacrificed something to pursue the gold.

His peace of mind, security and safety.

It was Victor's turn. He needed to reach forward first, and trust that Yuuri would reach back.

So, he spoke about St. Petersburg. About the sea gulls and home.

And Yuuri told him a story.

"Yuuri, you're not weak, no one thinks that either," Victor said, smiling softly.

Now for the scariest part, the question Victor had been contemplating since his arrival, "What do you want me to be to you? A father figure?"

Yuuri quietly, but firmly said, "No."

"A brother then, a friend?" Victor continued.

"No." Yuuri returned softly.

"Your Sweetheart then? Okay, I'll try my best." Victor said mischievously.

If the way Yuuri had leapt up to frantically disagree wasn't so hilarious, Victor would've taken offense. But it was, so he laughed in response.

"I want you to be who you are, Victor." Yuuri said, a trace of the delicious Alpha-ness coming through in his voice.

Victor's laughter cut, as he gazed up at Yuuri, who was looking at him determinedly. Victor felt a warmth rush through his body, filling him up with infinite courage, like he could take on the world.

"I've always looked up to you, Victor. I ignored you because I didn't want you to see my shortcomings, But I'll make it up to you with my skating." Yuuri said like it was a promise.

Victor smiled and extended his hand towards Yuuri, and said, "Then I won't let you off easy. That's my way of showing my love."

Yuuri grasped his hand in Victor's firmly, and nodded.

 _Watch out, Yuuri, because you're going to be worked harder than any skater in the world._


	5. Chapter 5

When Yuuri touched the thinning spot on his head, Victor felt knee-jerk shame. Who would want a balding Omega? And if Yuuri had noticed it was certainly important to him.

Victor curled up on the ice theatrically, concealing his sudden insecurity.

"No, you're beautiful. Please get up." Yuuri cried out, immediately soothing Victor's fears.

"You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I'm sorry!"

But it was nice to hear, all the same. Victor stayed curled up on the ice, as Yuuko and Takeshi looked on in amusement.

* * *

The Omega in the advertisement laughed, and even though Victor couldn't understand most of what they were talking about, what with his underwhelming knowledge of Japanese. But it wasn't hard to infer their topic of advertisement.

Omega Pills.

The cheerful music faded as the advertisement drew to a close.

Victor brought a finger up to his mouth and thought.

* * *

"Side effects may include hair loss, acne, nausea. Please consult your doctor before taking any medication." the website proclaimed.

Victor sighed, and picked up his phone.

" _Hello? This is Doctor Ivanov."_

Victor smiled, suddenly homesick. " _Hello, Doctor. This is Victor Nikiforov."_

 _"Victor! How are you doing, my boy? We miss you around here."_

Victor's smile became smaller, gentler, as he recalled the kindly old doctor Yakov had introduced him to after he had received his orientation letter. He had been so confused and lost, and all he had wanted to do was keep skating. The doctor had made that happen by directing him in hiding his orientation from everyone in the skating world. The doctor was one of the two people in the world, apart from Victor's family, who knew he was an Omega.

" _Doctor, I've decided to start it. The pills_."

There was a noticeable silence on the other end of the line, until " _Oh, my boy…_."

Victor stilled, standing up straighter, " _It's not like that. I just think it's time I became a proper Omega_."

The doctor's voice hardened, " _You were always a proper Omega, Vitya. Always_ "

Victor huffed, " _My father wouldn't agree with you, Doctor. But that's all behind us now. I've decided that it's best I start the pills_. _After taking a break….I've realized what I've been missing, and now that I've had a taste, I want it all._ "

" _Vitya, I'm glad to hear that, but starting it at your age will not be easy. Most Omegas go on the pill at 21, when they receive their letters_ ," The doctor's voice cautioned.

Victor said, " _Most Omegas aren't five time world champions, Doctor_."

The doctor laughed lightly, " _That's true. But hopefully that will change soon. I've heard that Yuuri Katsuki is a promising fellow_."

Victor smiled, " _Always took you for a smart man, glad I'm not wrong. So, what do I need to know? To take the pill?_ "

The voice became more serious, and said, " _Okay, so you know about the difference between Alphas, Betas and Omegas, right?_ "

Victor rolled his eyes, " _Yes, Doctor. I know all about the birds and the bees. I've had The Talk._ "

The doctor tsked, and said sternly, " _This isn't a joke, my boy. Do you know why we do a blood test to determine a person's orientation?_ "

Victor settled down, and said meekly, " _No_."

" _Right_ ," and the voice took on a lecturer's tone, " _Some decades ago, scientists discovered that certain men and women have the necessary biological material to create a child with another human being of the same gender. I won't bore you with the details, but if you choose you may be able to have a child through surrogacy with you and your partner's biological material, whatever the partner's gender may be, but they would have to be an Alpha, if they are male. If they are female, you would go about it the old-fashioned way._ "

Victor hummed thoughtfully, carefully not examining the word "partner" too much.

" _Right, so our society was divided into roles, all centered around the Omega. Omegas were the ones who could create a child, Alphas were the ones they were compatible with, and Betas were the ones who had to do things the old fashioned way. And society evolved with this. The Alphas becoming the providers and protectors, the Omegas the caretakers and the Betas everything in between. Scientists don't know why yet, but Omegas are generally more submissive than Betas, and Alphas more dominating than Betas. The leading theory is that it's to increase compatibility._ "

Victor nodded, listening carefully.

" _Being an Omega is about potentiality. If you want children someday, it's best to start taking Omega Pills to ready your body to start producing the necessary biological material. The older you are, the harder the process. That's why I'm going to be monitoring you very carefully for the next six months. And I expect you to answer my phone calls, okay Vitya?_ "

Victor huffed out a reluctant laugh and said, " _You know you can really feel that anthropology minor when you lecture me like that._ "

The doctor said warningly, " _Vitya_."

Victor laughed, louder than before, " _Yes. I promise. Can I take the good drugs now?_ "

The doctor also laughed, " _Yes. I'll send over the necessary pills. Take care, Vitya_."

Victor said, "Dasvidanya"

* * *

After a week, the pills arrived.

Victor clenched his eyes shut and gobbled one before he could think too hard about it.

* * *

There was someone in his room.

Victor's eyes snapped open and he assessed the situation. It couldn't be an intruder, well… it technically could be, but Victor thought it was improbable seeing as how Makkachin was quiet, and cheerful as she was Victor knew a potential threat to Victor would atleast be met with a growl.

So, it had to be one of the Katsukis. And Victor knew just which one, judging by the lack of scent in the air. But he was surprised at the situation, he thought this late night visit would be a while in the coming.

Victor stretched languidly, and sat up only to be met with a pale faced Yuuri Katsuki who was looking at him like he had never seen him before.

They stared at each other in silence, as Makkachin's tail wagged in a friendly manner.

Yuuri was really pale. He looked like he was about to faint at any moment with shock.

Victor looked at himself.

Ah, that explained it.

As flattering as it was, Victor didn't think his naked chest warranted this much emotion. Though, he mused, it was a rather magnificent chest.

"Yuuri!" He whisper-yelled, keeping in mind that the other Katsukis were sleeping, "What brings you here, at this time of night? Finally ready to accept my offer of sleeping together, huh?"

Yuuri paled further.

Victor pouted, he was starting to think he should be getting offended. There was no need to look like that!

Victor noticed the laptop in Yuuri's hands, and said "Oh, do you have something for me?"

At that, Yuuri snapped out of the daze he was in, and hesitatingly said, with a weird note in his voice, "I'm s-sorry. I knocked, but the door was open, and I just-"

Victor laughed brightly, to dispel the awkward lull that had descended at Yuuri's words.

"It's okay Yuuri. You are always welcome here. Now what do you have to show me?"

Yuuri, who had taken a step back, stepped forward, and carefully handed Victor his laptop, making sure his skin didn't brush Victor's.

Confused, Victor put Yuuri's strange behaviour out of his mind and played the music.

Ah.

 _There we go._

* * *

Victor's eyes flew open, as he quickly shoved Makkachin away, lunging for the closest trash can.

The air was filled with the sound of retching.

Makkachin whined in protest, the smell amplified due to her sensitive nose, and pawed at the door, eager to get away from the smell.

"Makkachin, what's wrong?" a voice outside said.

Victor closed his eyes as Yuuri knocked on the door.

"Is everything okay, Victor?" he called out.

Victor tried to reply, but couldn't because of the bile in his throat. He gagged and clenched his eyes shut. The door to his room opened slowly.

"Sorry for intruding Victor, but Makkachin….Are you alright?!" Yuuri said, finally noticing the figure crouched in the corner.

Victor could feel Yuuri approaching.

"I'm fine. Just go. I'll join you later. _Please._ " Victor said, English blurring into Russian by the end of the sentence.

Yuuri drew closer, and knelt beside Victor. Victor could feel the heat of Yuuri's hands, and could practically see them in his mind's eye as they hovered awkwardly behind him. Unsure.

Victor gagged as his body decided he was ready for another round of retching.

Cool fingers traced along Victor's eyebrows, pulling his hair back carefully. Yuuri it seemed, had made a decision.

So, they sat for what seemed like forever, as Victor vomited and Yuuri sat beside him quietly, but steadily.

Victor's eyes swelled with tears from the force of his retching, as he sobbed his way through another round with the trash can. His knuckles whitened, as his grip tightened on the edges of the trash can.

He didn't think it would be this bad.

Victor felt Yuuri get up, and repressed the urge to whimper in protest. Why shouldn't Yuuri be allowed to leave if he wanted to, he hadn't signed up for months of nausea and pain.

He waited in quiet misery for the urge to start crying to fade.

Suddenly, a hand was gently wiping his face with a cool, wet towel, while a voice crooned soothingly. Victor's hands left the trash can and clutched Yuuri's wrists.

The white towel drew away, and Victor saw Yuuri's big, brown eyes looking at him in concern. Seemingly satisfied with his work, he pulled away, while Victor fought the urge to crawl into Yuuri, and offered Victor a water bottle.

After Victor cleaned up, he found Yuuri standing awkwardly in the corner of his room, trash can mysteriously empty.

He smiled brightly, "Ready for practice?"

Yuuri stared at him silently for a beat, and nodded.

* * *

"Yuuri, what's your theme?"

Yuuri looked at Victor for what seemed like forever, and with a determined mien, said "On my love."

Victor felt a strange unfurling in his chest. Strange, he'd have to contact Doctor Ivanov about that, might be a side-effect of the pill.

"That's the best theme."

* * *

Yuuri's gaze seemed more intense than usual, it wasn't like his hero-worship at the beginning of their relationship, or the panic that lit his eyes before the beach, but it seemed...deeper, somehow.

Victor tried to feel him out, but it seemed like even Yuuri himself had no idea what he was doing. He suddenly seemed more….open and closed at the same time. Like being allowed to view the Mona Lisa without the ropes holding you back. You could touch it, but even you knew you shouldn't, the painting didn't invite touching.

And with the pills taking effect, it took all Victor had to stop himself from begging Yuuri to sleep with him, to share his skin.

 _Remember Vitya, the pill will make you touch-starved. Make sure you have someone near you, I would recommend you sleep with someone. Your body will demand it. Usually Omegas have friends or family who do this with them. Try to find someone._

But Victor said nothing. He just clutched Makkachin closer and tried to sleep. So what if his Omega self needed Oxytocin. He would deal.

* * *

Victor stood in front of the mirror naked, as he carefully examined his head with another, smaller mirror.

He sighed.

Why did he want to do this again?

* * *

Victor could _hear_ Yuuri's concern through the door, from where he was knocking on the door.

But it was all he could do to not curl up and whimper...oh wait, he was already doing that.

"Victor, I'm coming in."

Yuuri gasped as he saw the pitiable figure Victor probably made, curled up and sweaty, with Makkachin hovering nearby in worry.

Yuuri rushed over to the bed and demanded, "What's wrong, Victor?! Did you get hurt?"

"C-Cramps" Victor gasped out.

Yuuri's eyebrows didn't unfurl. Instead they seemed to burrow further together.

"Where?"

"B-back"

Yuuri got up and said, "Wait here." and left.

Victor silently cursed Yuuri's name. Wait here. Where would he go?!

Yuuri returned with what looked like...it couldn't be! Victor let out a moan as the heating pad pressed to his back started working. Victor's unfurled slightly from his fetal position.

Yuuri was still looking at him in concern.

"Thanks."

Yuuri smiled slightly, still looking worried, "Of course."

Victor licked his lips, afraid to ask for more. But he hadn't come this far in life without taking a few risks.

"Yuuri...Will you sleep with me?"

Yuuri's eyes softened, and he nodded. He lowered himself behind Victor, his body holding the heating pad in place, hands tangling with Victor's, and legs behind Victor's.

Victor closed his eyes, and thought of another night spent just like this.

* * *

Time suddenly started moving faster. Days sweeping by in a flurry of practices and good food (well, good food for Victor, rabbit food for Yuuri).

And then, it was September.


End file.
